For Better or For Worse

 

Holmes had heard nothing from Watson since he left six months earlier.

 

He deeply regretted that Watson had discovered his little secrete, but did not regret the act. He had to admit he enjoyed the sycophantic attentions of his younger companion, and in fact had chosen this young man, as he strongly resembled Watson at that age, not only appearance but endurance as well. The fact he was a police constable didn't hurt either. Holmes liked a man in uniform. It was sex pure and simple raw and enthusiastic yet completely unemotional.

 

Watson had a right to leave, now six months later Holmes was just begging to realise that, and feelings of guilt were beginning to creep into his life. Feelings Holmes was slightly unaccustomed to.

 

Holmes lay in bed pondering the sleeping John. Ironic how he even has the same first name as Watson, yet he is NOT Watson. Whilst I do enjoy the physical side I know that’s all there is. I never thought I would admit that I miss the emotional side of things. I never would have thought I could miss that, and I know I could never have that with this young man. He's too raw and rough around the edges; even Watson at his worst was far more my style than this youngster.  And yet I am reluctant to give him up, if I ask myself why I must admit that I feel old, and that this PC makes me feel young, but that’s all he makes me feel. Do I owe him anything? 8 months of loyal service? HA, but what is 8 months compared to 30 some odd years? Watson ever the romantic choosing the day that I returned from the dead to celebrate our anniversary. He said that my rebirth was a rebirth of our commitment, what I wouldn't give to relive that moment in time twenty years ago. I had everything I could have wanted, companionship, love devotion, and for the most part I returned those feelings as best I knew how. Why does age have to spoil thing?  Age or ego?  I imagine I have fractured Watson ego. Is that why I feel guilty, for making Watson feel old, or is it for shattering his trust, his faith, and his life, which I knew he saw me as. Watson.

 

Holmes sighed as he lazily ran his hand along the younger mans smooth muscular back. Definitely not My Watson. He shook his head regretfully, remembering the scar along his shoulder, and the various other scars he had obtained during their shared cases.

 

John rolled from his stomach to his back, revealing a broad muscular chest sprinkled with patches of thick dark hair, and a smooth lean stomach. He had been wrapped from the waist down in the white sheet; his lower body just an outline. He opened his eyes and smiled brightly at Holmes. "Morning Holmes." He glanced at the clock that struck 2 am, got out of bed and began to dress.  "Best I get going I wuz  'sposed to be on duty an hour ago, 'ole Lestrade 'll 'ave me head if 'e finds out."

 

Holmes shook his head, even after 8 months this PC did not realise that Holmes could pull the necessary strings, though he was never quite sure if it was a naive innocence or just a complete lack of intelligence on John's part. Holmes coughed as he tried to hold back the laughter; "If you run in to trouble tell the Inspector you were working closely with me"

 

He reached over to the nightstand and searched for a cigarette, the absurdity of his situation caused a slight chuckle. A sudden pang of guilt, and the realisation he missed Watson hit him. He watched as the young PC finished dressing. I do like a man who fills in his uniform well; I remember when Watson would don his for me on occasion.

 

He smiled at the memory of Watson. I must be true to myself, I miss him, I need him, and ages and egos are damned!

 

"I'm off then Holmes" John waved, "G'night"  

"Good-bye" He finished his cigarette rolled over and went back to sleep.

 

 

Emily Watson slowly opened the door to her father's bedroom; she was not surprised to find him sleeping restlessly in the armchair. She sighed deeply, the past few months had been filled with such unhappiness and regret for him, and she felt guilty for the happiness she and Edward shared. She smiled, as she thought of Edward, handsome pigheaded, intelligent and kind, she had fallen in love with him instantly.  Edward was a doctor like her father. Emily had first met him in the dissecting room at St. Barts; ironic that it was the same place her father had met Holmes so many years ago.  Emily was a second year medical student, one of handful of women at the medical college, she unlike the other women had the advantage that her father was a doctor, and therefore was not treated as frailly as the others, that’s not to say she was treated equally either.  Edward was one of the new graduates, he felt strongly about woman as doctors, he felt they were better suited to being wives, mothers, nurses and governess, that was until he came head to head with Emily.  She had changed his way of thinking drastically over the past 18 months.  Edward had found himself seeing things through her eyes. The world treated bright intelligent women very unfairly; he came to see that women could be so much more than what society limited them too. He came to know Emily's inner self and the secrete that she kept concerning her father and Holmes, he reacted well, his only comment had been that life must have been hard with two fathers, she laughed and hugged him. Every day he spent with was a journey of discovery. Edward soon realised that he was falling in love, and that very night had told Emily he wanted to marry her. 

 

Emily looked down at her sleeping father; even in his sleep he seemed so sad and lonely. Lovingly she put her hand on his shoulder and gently shook him. "Papa, wake up"

 

"Huh?" He cocked open one eye and yawned. "Wh.. Emily? What's the matter?"  Watson straightened himself up and looked into his daughters blue eyes.

 

"Papa, Edward would like a word with you, please" From the smile on her face and the gleam in her eye Watson instinctively knew what the young man wanted to discuss.

 

Watson kissed his daughters cheek, "Give me a moment" He stood up and stretched, smoothed the wrinkles from his clothes, walked to the dressing table, picked up the brush and brushed his dishevelled hair.  Emily smiled fondly, "You look fine Papa, hurry"

 

Watson winked, "If your young man is serious and is about to ask me what I think he is, than I think he can wait for your old father to make himself more presentable don’t you?"

 

Emily blushed "Oh Papa" She hugged him tightly as she used to as a child.

 

Watson returned the hug, and finished grooming himself; Emily smiled approvingly, "Are you ready now?"  He nodded and they entered the sitting room.

 

Edward had been sitting by the fire, he looked nervous as Emily and her father had entered the room. Watson walked over and smiled down at him, he stood and cleared his throat. "Sir I respectfully request your daughters hand in marriage. I believe I have a lot to offer, my family is well to do and there fore I have good prospects, as you well know I have recently graduated from medical school and will soon join a small but well-established practice. I believe that I can take good care of her."

 

Watson gestured to the sofa where the young man had been sitting, "Please sit, be comfortable" Watson's voice held no emotion, his face unreadable Edward was nervous.

"Emily dear, why not get us some drinks, there's a good girl." Watson winked at her as she turned to protest.  She shook her head and poured two brandies, she handed one to Edward who's had shook when he accepted it, and one to her father who lightly touched her hand ash she pressed the glass into his.  "Now then you say you have good prospect?" Edward nodded, "You say you will take care of her and provide for her" Again Edward nodded Watson leaned forward and looked direct into Edwards blue eyes, "Do you love her?" Emily blushed as Edward looked at her, there was pure adoration in his eyes, Watson had seen it many times, but he wanted to here this man say it, he wanted him NOT to be embarrassed or ashamed about loving his daughter. Edward reached for Emily's hand and she took it and squeezed reassuringly, "Yes sir, I love your daughter with all my heart."

 

Watson smiled warmly and nodded, "There's just one more thing, and will you provide ME with lots of grandchildren?"  Both Emily and Edward blushed, then realised that this was Watson’s way of saying yes.  Watson placed his hand on Edwards shoulder smiled brightly and nodded yes, "Welcome to the family son, I’ll leave you too to get up no good" He chuckled and went back to his room.

 

"Your father is quite a character at times" Edward pulled Emily to him and passionately kissed her, "He's very open minded, but I don't think it would be appropriate to start on the Grandchildren BEFORE the wedding, well at least not in the sitting room"

 

 

Weeks had passed since Edward had asked for Emily's hand, and the planning and preparations were well underway, the invitations were all sent out, all but one.  Emily thumbed it over again and again;  "Mr. Sherlock Holmes " was printed neatly on the envelope. 

 

She desperately wanted him to attend her wedding, but she didn't want to hurt her father. She had maintained a very close relationship with Holmes despite the difficulties he and Watson had been having, he was after all like a second father to her. He had taught her to play chess, and to use her observational skills, he was always quick with praise, and had it not been for him she would not have had as fine an education as she had, Holmes had paid for it.  He provided an ear when she had disagreements with Watson, and he often filled the role of "favoured parent" taking her side and persuading Watson to change his mind to suit her. To put it simply HE not Watson spoiled her.

 

She was the only female he allowed to touch him in even the smallest way, she was very tactile and when she was a child enjoyed watching her uncle squirm as she lavished him with hugs and kisses. Now as an adult, she knew better, and yet he still permitted the familiarity one would expect of a daughter, and to her great surprise was the one who hugged first when she had told him of her impending nuptials. "Edward is a good man, and he is very lucky to have you, and I am sure you will not let him forget that" She hugged him back of course, but was stunned none the less.

 

And so she sat in silent misery, torn.  Watson had noticed the sadness in her eyes he had a suspicion of what caused it, this should have been the most exciting time of her life.

 

"That invitation isn't going to send it's self you know" Emily looked up to see her father smiling at her, his eyes filled with understanding, he placed a hand lovingly on her face.

 

"Papa, won’t it bother you to see him?" She inquired.

 

"I'll survive, I only want what makes you happy. He is as much a part of you life as I am" His words while heartfelt were said with great sadness.  Emily added the address to the invitation and smiled happily.  She stood up and kissed him on the cheek she knew what it cost him to agree to this "Thank you" she said as she hurried off to post the invitation, this was one invitation she was sure to get a yes from.

 

The day of the wedding soon arrived, and Emily was nervously preparing, she sat looking at herself in the mirror, soon she would no longer be Emily Jane Watson, but Emily Jane Holden. I can't see spending my life with anyone other than Edward.  She wore her mothers wedding dress and necklace made of pearls. Watson had given her the necklace the night before, for the first time he seemed old to her, it was late and she clearly saw the years reflected in his tired face, she saw loneliness as well. My dear Father, I hope some day you will find happiness again. She finished fastening veil and stood and faced the door. No turning back now.

 

The ceremony was to take place in a small chapel on Edwards's family estate; the reception would be at his family's home. Emily had agreed to this as it was a tradition for all first born males in the Holden family to be married in the chapel and she wasn't one to mess with tradition. 

 

Watson turned at the sound of the door being opened, she was a vision of loveliness as all brides are, and Watson gazed at his daughter and took her hand. She looks so much like her mother.  He leaned close to her and whispered, "Your mother would be very proud of you" Emily smiled as Watson escorted her down the aisle. 

Watson tried to concentrate on Emily as they passed by Holmes who sat up front, he tried to ignore him, but it was futile. He was dressed handsomely in top hat and tails, Holmes always looked good when dressed for special occasions Watson smiled in spite of himself.

 

Holmes watched as they passed by, he smiled at the young woman, who smiled back, her happiness evident even beneath the veil.  Then he turned his attention to Watson and nodded. He's lost a few pounds, his hair is a bit greyer, but he looks good, if a little sad. Watson quickly turned away.  Through the cermony Watson felt Holmes eyes on him; familiar feelings of begin studied like a piece of evidence, familiar and uncomfortable.

 

At the reception Watson sat quietly he hadn't realised Emily would seat Holmes next to him.  Watson turned to look at Holmes and couldn't take his eyes off him; he took in every detail, before Watson knew images of what lay beneath the tuxedo began to flash through his head.

 

Holmes was not oblivous to this and smiled inwardly, making sure Watsons glass was kept full of champagne. He was sure that while intoxicated Watson could be persuaded to forgive any indiscretion on his part.  They exchanged no words, just longing glances, and smouldering looks, each undressing the other with their eyes. By the time the father daughter dance came round Watson was very drunk and could hardly stand, but he managed to dance, Emily holding him. 

 

"Emmy, have a happy healthy long life " Watson told her after the dance had finished. He kissed her cheek and managed to stagger outside.

 

Emily looked worried, Holmes grasped her arm warmly, "I'll take care of him, don't worry. Go be with your new husband." Emily hugged him tightly, and whispered, "Thank you, dearest Uncle" She watched as he followed Watson out the door.

 

 

Watson stood leaning against a column, it was cool and the night air refreshing, he stood there silently crying. Holmes placed a hand on his back. Watson did not turn around; he was well familiar with the touch.  He allowed Holmes to lead him to coach that was waiting to take him home. Holmes assisted Watson in and climbed in after him.

 

Without hesitation Watson rested his spinning head against Holmes shoulder and closed his eyes. Holmes placed his arm around Watson and caressed his soft grey hair, and kissed his forehead.  Watson sighed heavily, and murmured, "I've missed you." 

"Me too" Holmes placed another kiss on Watsons head.

"Just one question… Are you sorry?" He sounded half asleep, and before Holmes could answer Watson had indeed fallen asleep.

 

Holmes continued to caress him, "Yes, I am " he whispered as he delicately kissed Watson's neck.

 

That night Holmes carried Watson up to bed in his old room at Baker Street. He undressed him as he had done so many times before tucked him in bed and caressed his arm. Their full reunion would have to wait until Watson was once again sober, but for now Holmes was content to lay next to him and ponder the future.”Perhaps this will be a new anniversary"